


Don't Wait Up

by OrianaGray



Series: A Puzzle Most Strange [1]
Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Babysitting, Character Study, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Moral Ambiguity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 17:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16521125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrianaGray/pseuds/OrianaGray
Summary: Being a Duke, one could assume one of the requirements would not be, of all things, babysitting. The position of Duke was supposed to be something powerful, signify the trust of a king. It was a domain, a claim, a title hard to achieve in the Darklands after King Spade had taken over. Yet, Rouxls Kaard prevailed and maintained a position as Duke of Puzzles. However, it didn’t feel as much of a prevalence as it did survival.In which Rouxls Kaard receives an outlandish task that was certainly not in his job description.





	Don't Wait Up

Being a Duke, one could assume one of the requirements would not be, of all things, _babysitting_ . The position of Duke was supposed to be something powerful, signify the trust of a king. It was a domain, a claim, a title hard to achieve in the Darklands after King Spade had taken over. Yet, Rouxls Kaard prevailed and maintained a position as Duke of Puzzles. However, it didn’t feel as much of a prevalence as it did _survival_.

 

In order to maintain his existence, he would often find himself jumping through various hoops, the king asked him to leap? Rouxls would ask how high. It wasn’t the worst existence, he wasn’t imprisoned like most of his old friends, after all. He would see them on occasion when he would traverse down into the dungeon in order to map out where he wishes to add puzzle locks, or if older ones may need to be removed and so forth. His friends would beckon him from their respective cells, hands reaching out and voices hoarse as they cried out for his attention. He would purposefully walk just out of their reach, their fingers grazing against his boots on occasion-- sending a sickening chill through his blood.

 

Once, an old frie-- a _prisoner_ , _traitor, fiend_ \-- managed to grasp their spindly hand around his ankle. He had shrieked, dropping his leather journal of blueprints and staring down at the prisoner with wide eyes. They glowered back up at him, bright yellow eyes burning with a rabid disgust, his heart had pounded in his ears as they began to speak.

 

“ _Rouxls Kaard,_ ” They spat his name like it was poison, full of hate and vitriol, “You come down here to mock us once again? Flaunt your freedom, coward, I regret the days I worked alongside you. You care for nothing but yourself, abandoning your friends for a ruthless king. How mighty you are, Duke. To be so ready to kneel as your friends are _slaughtered._ ”

 

“Alloweth wend of me, _traitor_!” Rouxls hisses, they laugh, their grip tightening-- claws pierced into his boots-- shrill tendrils of pain erupting in his skin.

 

“I? The Traitor?” The laugh dryly, “I trusted you, Kaard. And what did you do? Threw me to the fire, and designed the lock of my tomb.” The pressing in his ankle had become wet with blood, the claws slipping into the skin with ease, “I’d kill you if I could, old friend. But I know that this may be worse, you have to live as your friends are rotting in cells or dead by the hands of those you surrendered too. How does it feel to live with such cowardice, Kaard? I am quite _literally_ dying to know.”

 

“Enough of this, I shalt not heareth this slander any longeth’r!” Rouxls cried, he stomped his free foot down on to the exposed arm that gripped his ankle, it cracked under his foot-- loud and splintering. The monster shrieked in agony-- their grip lost and Kaard grabs his journal before quickly walking away, trying to block out the agonized wails of the prisoner.

 

“You are the worst of men, Kaard!” They growled, it echoed across the halls as Rouxls shakily pressed the elevator button, his journal pressed close to his chest, “Burn in your betrayal, you selfish _bastard_! I would take this rotting cell over being as cruel as you!”

The elevator door opened, and Rouxls called out to them once more before stepping inside, “Then _fucking_ rot, you idiotic _worm_ !” He shrieks, no hint of the intelligent old English he spoke, just a raw and broken crackling tone. The door closed, and Rouxls could hear them _laughing_ at him.

 

They were right and he _knew_ it, of course he did. Sleep often evaded him, as if it too was in fear he would betray it in some form. He was alive, he was surviving, but god, he was so _lonely_ . The company he had were those weary of him due to his status-- and the common knowledge of how fast he would give someone up if it meant his own head was to be spared. He knew he was selfish-- by no means a good person, but he was also very _afraid_. He didn’t know what else to do and for it, as his friends rotted in cells, he rotted within his own mind.

 

He pressed his back to the wall of the elevator, staring blankly at the wall before him as he began his slow ascent. His knees had grown weak and he slid down the wall, soon huddled with his knees to his chest-- shoulders bobbing as he had begun to sob.

 

There were little ways to try and live with the guilt. Truly little things, but nonetheless all the more in easing Rouxls from his ails of guilt and self-hatred. Of constant reminders of his grief and selfishness. He began to build, to settle within the castle and try to manifest any form of happiness he can from the little he still had. It was hard to do alone, but surely, he could manage.

 

He had a shop settled within the castle grounds, some would call it an apothecary, due to items akin to medicines being sold there.  Rouxls didn't really find any label necessary for the shop, it was his shop with a lovely apartment set up on the upper story of it. It was a blissful silence in the chaos, a bubble of peace shielding him from the violence of the broken monarchy that now ran the Darklands.

 

So as he was planning out various puzzles of specific orders and operations for the castle dungeon, he didn't expect the door to his apothecary to upon with the light twinkling of bells. The pleasant sound was followed by the familiar sound of heavy, powerfully loud footsteps that were obnoxious out of the sole purpose so to let anyone around know that they were in the presence of the King of Spades. Rouxls stands quickly, giving a low bow, before straightening up into a far too stiff pose-- pressing a smile that stung the edges of his lips.

 

“Hail and well met, sire!” Rouxls drawls, “How can I s'rve thee on this fine day?”

 

The King exhales a long heavy sigh, “Fine is a strong word, Kaard.” He voice is low, each syllable bitter, his very presence could be described as an unnerving intensity of paranoia and unstoppable anxiety, “I have things to attend to, traitors to lock up and all of those.”

 

“Ah,” Rouxls says with a curt nod, “Doest thee needeth mine own assistance, p'rhaps?” The King nods, crossing his thick arms, his second mouth hanging open lax upon his stomach, bearing far too large teeth, a sight one could never truly get used to.

 

“Yeah, see if I get too bored, things may get… messy,” At that the mouth on his stomach grins-- betraying the professional expressionless face the King held, “Limited cells, so many troublemakers… Can lead to some _very_ nasty things. And while I don't mind them,” He snaps his fingers and a small Kathy scrambles in, arms wrapped tightly around a blanket covered item, “I can't have this crying all the time, it's _annoying_. So you must watch it.”

 

The Hathy stops before Rouxls and holds the bundle towards him, cautiously he peels the blanket and feels his eyes widen as he sees the peaceful form of a baby, clearly that of the Kings.

 

He flinches and pulls his hand away from the blanket. The baby prince grumbles from the Hathy’s arms, the monster Coos and rocks him. Rouxls had seen the baby once, of course. The king had to produce an heir, so he had, and upon presenting the new prince-- there was no other individual to claim the child. A mystery, Prince Lancer, the heir that just seemed to appear.

 

Rouxls felt his nose crinkle, _And he had called the poor child, it?_

 

“Oh, s--sire.” Rouxls stumbles, shaking nervously, “I-I am’st _wholly_ unqualified for such'st an important deed.”

 

The King's face hardens, “Watch him, for your sake.” The largemouth on the stomach twists into a wicked sneer “Would hate to lose my most _trusted_ advisor over something as simple as babysitting.”

 

Rouxls pales, snatching Lancer from the monsters arms and smiling, “Nay! nay! Thou shalt not w'rry.  I shall taketh valorous careth of doth prince!”

 

The King laughs, loud and ugly, “Knew you would come around Kaard.” He turns, plucking a vile of Fragrant Sauce from the counter, “Have fun on your, fine day, as you put it. I shall surely have fun on mine.” He punctuates the farewell with another sickening laugh.

 

And with that, the King leaves Rouxls and the baby prince alone in the shop. Rouxls looks down at the bundle in his arm, lips pressed tight. He had no experience with children, he wasn't even good with full-grown adults, and much less a _baby_. Lancer tilts his head curiously towards Rouxls in a somewhat primitive acknowledgment.

 

Rouxls presses a smile, bouncing the child in his arms just slightly-- as the Hathy's had done. “Greetings, dearest'st prince.” He says, “I am Rouxls Kaard,  Duke of puz-”

 

The baby begins violently thrashing and screams, grabbing a lock of Rouxls hair and tugging with a brute force. The Duke shrieks, trying to claw the child's grip from his hair. “Bawbling prince alloweth wend!” He cries, “Ow! No! Owowow!” He prices the chubby fist from his hair and holds the squirming baby as far away from his head as physically possible, “Enough of _that_!” He huffs.

 

Lancer takes a moment as if to register the chaotic situation, before staring directly at Rouxls. There is a brief feeling of understanding and a hope from the Duke that somehow the small unintelligent creature understood what was wrong.

 

The hope died when Lancer sniffed and the burst out into a screaming and sobbing mess.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have fallen in love with this character, time to dissect him! My goal is to have this be a mini-series of Rouxls Kaard and Lancer, aka Rouxls is learning that he can be a good person and learn to actually care for others without fear of them being hauled off somewhere, and Lancer gets to bond with his Lesser (*coughs* Greater) Dad! I adore these two's dynamic and can't wait to write more of those good-good unintentional dad interactions.
> 
> Anyhow, don't be afraid to stop by and say Hiya! to me on  
> Twitter: @oriana_gray  
> Tumblr: orianagray.tumblr.com  
> Instagram: @oriana_gray


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